


Date Night

by ScatteredWords



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, proposal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:04:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScatteredWords/pseuds/ScatteredWords
Summary: After five years of dating, Carmilla Karnstein is finally going to propose to Laura Hollis. Or is it the other way around? The best-laid plans of vampires and journalists often go awry...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the cast response to the NYCC question about who would propose. There have to be at least five fics of this by now; I'm probably the last on the bandwagon.

In retrospect, the fact that the date was triple-circled in red on the kitchen calendar should have been a tip-off.

Laura assumed she’d done it. After all, as the owner, hanger, and sole user of the calendar, she was the most logical choice. But now, munching her breakfast apple and staring at the scribbled ovals around June 20th, she couldn’t remember ever drawing them.

Not that that made June 20th any less significant.

She shot a glance at the living room couch- more specifically, at the messy dark curls barely visible over the swoops of antique mahogany. Carmilla’s face remained buried in her book. Nothing unusual. Nothing suspicious. But nothing could be less suspicious. No journalist ever got anywhere by taking things at face value.

“Okay, Cupcake, what’s going on?”

Laura said nothing.

“Spit it out. I can feel you doing that ‘you forgot to take the trash out again’ stare.”

Silence, broken only by the sound of a very small foot tapping on the hardwood floor. Finally, Carmilla slid a crumpled receipt into her book and stood up. After about thirty seconds of leisurely stretching, she turned to Laura.

“Is this a new investigation technique or did you get distracted thinking about Joss Whedon’s recent cinematic shortcomings again?” she asked. 

Laura cocked an eyebrow. Raising her chin, she slowly approached Carmilla with an expression probably meant to seem intimidating. “Did you or did you not circle date night on the calendar?”

“You mean the calendar you put in the kitchen and I thus far have never touched?” she said. A pause. A blink. “No.”

The room was silent once more as both sides stared at each other. Had a stranger broken into the apartment at that moment, they might have anticipated a shootout or a knife fight or even a violent makeout session (before experiencing a more literal kind of breaking courtesy of vampiric strength). None of the above broke the silence, punctuated by the ambient roar of New York traffic outside the bay window. What finally did it was simply a word.

“Fine,” Laura said. Her shoulders relaxed, but not completely. “Fine. I must have done it and forgotten.”

Carmilla shrugged. “Must have. Is that all? Not that I don’t love talking to you, but my hero is about to complete the author’s overextended metaphor and I’m dying to see where it goes.”

In spite of herself, Laura smiled at the familiar dry tone in her girlfriend’s voice. “Promise to rant at me later about how dull and predictable it was?”

“Cross my heart.” Carmilla closed the distance between them and slipped her arm around Laura’s waist. Her other hand rose to push back a stray strand of light brown hair. “I love you, Prinzessin.”

“Love you, too,” Laura murmured, stretching up to kiss her softly. But her mind was working at full speed.

Operation: Fairytale just became much more urgent.  
\---------------------------------------------

Operation: Finally Get Married Because 300 Years Was No Time At All To Wait If It Was Leading To This But Enough Already had become much more urgent.

It had no formal name and its creator wouldn’t have even described it as “Operation” anything, but her thoughts on the matter ran along those lines. Nonetheless, she approached it as the most skilled general would approach the most crucial battle.

Plans for Carmilla’s first wedding hadn’t involved her at all. The proposal had consisted of her father shaking hands with the Baron Vordenburg and agreeing that his daughter the Lady Mircalla, sole heir to the County Karnstein, would marry the Lord Karl, sole heir to the Barony Vordenburg, on the eve of her twentieth birthday three years hence, etc. She hadn’t even been told until a week later, when the Count finally remembered at dinner and casually announced the news during the banquet course. Now, after centuries, she remembered the almond sweetness of the marchpane cake more than what her father had said. The mundane fact of which faceless nobleman she’d eventually marry had barely registered.

This time had to be different. This time, there was Laura.

Printed receipts littered her study like snow if snow came with bar codes. An email still glowed on the computer screen, one that had made her night considerably.

“I have done the impossible,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes. This email represented the end of an extremely long chain, growing increasingly curt on her part and desperate on the other person’s. Three hundred years of connections (and wise investments) had prevailed- and at a fraction of the cost she’d expected. Proof that anything could be a dinner venue if one tried hard enough.

With the finishing touches in place, she could finally relax. Still, her mind kept going over the plans as if four weeks had made it all habit.

At least that one snag cleared up. A few places had called back to say that they were very sorry, but they were already booked for the time requested. Some had backed down before a power display that would have done Lilita proud. Others stood firm. There had been semi-frantic rescheduling and reworking and it had eventually worked out.

The perfect romantic evening, filled with all the sappy little trimmings Laura loved. Not that she cared or anything; it was all meaningless frippery to her. Totally meaningless, and the fact that she’d spent hours selecting her outfit didn’t change that. 

She stared at the gilded ebony panels of the ceiling and idly wondered what this study’s former owner would think of her. A woman, in his perfect Victorian room, sitting at his perfect Victorian desk with her boots planted on its surface, planning to ask another woman to marry her.

“Probably one of those cads who’d find it titillating,” she said aloud as if addressing that long-ago gentleman. She’d been absent for this particular decade of the 19th century, but it was probably the same as all the rest.

Not like the present where, if all went well, she’d soon be engaged to Laura Hollis.  
\------------------------------

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re asking her? Doesn’t that go against all her stupid 17th-century sensibilities?”

Laura laughed. “I kinda doubt they had rules for this type of thing back then.”

“But you’re…I don’t know, shorter or something.” Static crackled, blotting out Danny’s next words “-this shit.”

“What?” Laura replied, punching the volume up a notch.

“I said, still stuck in this shit. Just muttering to myself; there’s some unexpected quicksand.”

“Hold on, are you still in those caverns underneath the Summer Lodge?”

Danny chuckled dryly. “Yep. Danny the Unkillable Wonder to the rescue again. Unless we find a cave with wooden stalagmites, I’m the best choice.” Something screeched on the other end, the high-pitched sound cut off by a snarl and a wet ripping sound. “Sorry,” she said, sounding a bit muffled. “Anyway, I guess I’m not surprised. It’s a miracle you two can stop making goo-goo eyes at each other long enough to have a life.”

“Speaking of goo-goo eyes, how’s Betty?” Laura asked. A teasing note crept into her voice, which was not lost on Danny.

“ _Elizabeth_ is fine,” she said. “We’re spending a week in Prague when she comes through on her backpacking trip. I’ll be sure to update her on Silas’ own Juliet and Juliet. She’ll probably dry-heave with happiness.” The snarky words couldn’t erase a certain fondness from Danny’s tone, a fondness Laura had noticed increasing as she and Betty- Elizabeth –spent time together. She smiled almost involuntarily.

“You know,” Danny added after a pause, “I bet you two have accidentally planned the same day to propose or something. If it would happen to anyone, it’ll happen to you.”

“I really doubt that.” A soft jingle of keys sounded from the foyer and Laura glanced at the door. “She’s home. I’ll call you back later.”

“Please do. I'm honestly curious to see this trainwreck play out.” One final otherworldly roar threatened to blow out Laura’s speakers, and Danny hung up.


End file.
